


We Sound Like Hope

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: The Symphony of Our Catastrophe [3]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Apologies, Boys In Love, Canon Disabled Character, Communication, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Post Beach Divorce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 01:04:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19096576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: Eight months after being abandoned on that beach in Cuba, Erik and Raven finally return.





	We Sound Like Hope

   “Professor?”

   Charles didn’t look up from the book in his lap, choosing to ignore Hank’s soft inquiry. Footsteps sounded on the gravel and he was standing next to him, forcing Charles to close his eyes and push back against the strength of Hank’s concern broadcasting right at him.

   They’re waiting inside. I convinced them not to come looking

   “Thank you, Hank,” he murmured, rubbing at his temple. “Would you go and make sure they stay there? I’ll be along in just a moment.”

   Hank retreated without a word, though he didn’t need to be a telepath to know he had hoped for very different instructions. Charles blinked in the bright sunlight as he gazed across the pond, mindlessly kneading at a phantom pain in his leg as he did so.

   It had been eight months since the beach in Cuba, five months since Charles had been allowed to return home and begin relearning how to live his life. He’d been adjusting, though not by choice, not really. The kids whom he had failed, still looked to him for direction though he couldn’t fathom why, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t try to help them still.

   As it turned out, however, his legs weren’t the only things he’d lost on that beach and the ache in heart was something else entirely. He’d lost two of the people he loved most in his life that day, he’d lost his peace of mind, and he’d lost the ability to sleep undisturbed by nightmares. Charles could admit that his legs were simple in comparison, at least so far as learning went. There was a set regime, a list of recommendations, technology to aid him along. There were no manuals for a broken heart.

   Now, after all this time, he was being told they were back.

   Charles wasn’t ready.

   “Charles?”

   A small gasp escaped his lips at the sound of her painfully familiar voice, eyes closing against the surge of emotion. Her mind hovered there, feeling like home and burning like regret. She came to stand by him and when Charles peeled his eyes back to look at her it felt almost like a dream; a mirage conjured from his yearning.

   “Raven,” he murmured.

   Her expression was broken, eyes glassy as she took him in. Charles knew she couldn’t be surprised, the news of his legs surely traveling as far as her and Erik, but he supposed it was different seeing it in person.

   “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

   “Raven,” his eyes stung. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

   “I abandoned you,” came her shaky reply, fingers trembling at her sides.

   Charles couldn’t take it anymore. This was his sister, his best friend, the young woman he would give anything for, even his forgiveness. He reached out and drew her in, forcing Raven to kneel in front of the chair as she threw her arms around him.

   He hugged her hard, one hand tangled in her hair while she buried her face in his neck and it felt inexplicably right, a hole finally being filled, “you never abandoned me, you could never.”

   “I left you, all alone on that beach. Your legs-”

   He cut her off, “Raven, its ok.”

   Charles could feel her sniffle against him and maybe it really wasn’t alright, but the truth was never less important then in that moment, finally having her back in his arms, no matter if it was temporary. Besides, he could feel the regret pressing against his own mind, for once willingly trying to communicate those emotions. He understood.

   They were there for a long moment. Charles didn’t rush, didn’t pull away. He couldn’t even if he wanted to. Raven, for her part seemed just as desperate to hold on to him and he couldn’t lie, the proof of her affection had been long missed in the years since their childhood and he reveled in it now.

   Unfortunately, it had to end at some point. They pulled back, Raven watching him with teary eyes that he yearned to wipe from her cheeks like he did when they were younger. Even without his telepathy, he knew the words that were about to slip from her tongue and though he dreaded them there was no denying the build of anticipation.

   “Erik is here.”

   “I know.”

   “Will you see him?”

   It was strange to be given that choice. It didn’t feel like one, not really. There were things that needed to be said on both their parts and things Charles needed Erik to know because no matter how he felt since that day in Cuba, Erik had to know that there was still hope.

   “I will,” he offered. “Walk with me?”

   A weak smile came to Raven’s lips as he carefully turned his chair around and made his way back toward the mansion, her stride matching his speed perfectly, a hand resting on the back of the chair. Something felt so right about it and he struggled not to wonder when she might leave again.

   He could feel her guilt surrounding him and Charles wished it was easy to dispel, wished he could just slip into the homely landscape of her mind and show her that while it hurt to lose her, it wasn’t abandonment that she need worry about. Perhaps another day, however, because Charles could already feel himself getting drained, tiring so easily these days. All part of the process he was told.

   Hank met them on the doorstep looking a little sheepish, but Charles sent him a quick pang of reassurance, having suspected Raven wouldn’t have stayed put in the study for long. Charles inclined his head toward Raven and watched in amusement as he was quick to grab her attention and lead her away. He wasn’t sure how he would have survived these past months without his brilliance and dedication, he wasn’t sure how he’d even earned it.

   Watching them walk down the path, Raven shooting him a worried glance, Charles could already feel himself tuning into the other mind waiting restlessly in his office. He didn’t pry, wouldn’t dare, but even with the gentlest of brushes, Charles could feel Erik’s mind blazing with its too hot passion and powerful energy.

   There was a part of him, a very large part, that wanted to wheel right past the study and disappear into his bedroom. Undoubtedly, Erik would take the hint, but he also wouldn’t leave, that much was clear from the brief touch to his mind.

   Charles hadn’t seen Erik since that day on the beach. His memories of it were fuzzy at best, aware only of those familiar arms around him, the splintering headache, the dull, heated pulsing in his back, the wide empty hole where Erik’s mind should have been.

   He’d been in quite a state afterwards. Not only had he been suffering from the bullet wound and punches to the face, he’d also been reeling from feeling of death with Shaw and the heartbreak of loosing his family.

   It had been a lot and he didn’t feel anymore ready now then he had been that day.

   Unfortunately, Charles was expected to be the responsible one and he knew the mature thing in this moment was to go and face Erik. To say all the things and reassurances that were needed for him to move on from this life, from him. The realization stung but Charles didn’t have it in him to deny that he was still hopelessly in love with the man.

   Fortifying his mind, Charles wheeled toward the study. He feared losing control and slipping into Erik’s mind without permission. It used to be a second home to him, within reason and the urge to curl up in it was strong.

   He idly wondered where the helmet had gone.

   Charles entered and found himself pausing when Erik got to his feet instantly. He looked…tired. Darkness had made a home beneath his eyes and there was a few days of growth on his usually clean shaven face, but besides that he appeared relatively fine. If it weren’t for the way those sea glass eyes were gazing at him with guilt and agony.

   “Erik,” he murmured, for lack of better things to say.

   “Charles,” he replied, equally soft and oh how he missed that lightly accented baritone.

   Charles wheeled toward his desk, ignoring the eyes glued to his chair as he went and the distant echo of regret and self-loathing. It was practically being broadcast at full volume and he wondered how conscious Erik was of that.

   He settled behind the desk, feeling like was on firmer ground with the chair tucked away as he met Erik’s eyes once more. He was still standing, unsure of his place here and Charles found himself abruptly exhausted. All the suppressed anger and yearning were clashing together violently in his head, leaving him simply resigned.

   Erik swallowed thickly, “you’re chair…”

   Charles offered a tight smile, “high-grade metal. Hank designed it to be light years beyond most chairs these days.” He kept to himself the fact that he’d requested the metal, needing something piece of Erik close to him when he was at his lowest.

   Erik nodded slowly before moving to take the seat across from the desk. Charles didn’t think he’d ever see the day where Erik was overtaken with nervousness in front of him. They had always clicked in a way that felt inexplicably alien, sliding into each other’s lives like they belonged, liked they’d always been there.

   Erik’s eyes seemed glued to the floor suddenly and Charles had no wish to drag this out indefinitely, could see that the man didn’t know what to say. He didn’t blame him; Charles hardly knew what he wanted and what he needed to say.

   So, he gave them somewhere to start, an earnest question, “Erik, what are you doing here?”

   The man sitting across from him appeared defeated suddenly, shoulders drooping as he looked up at him. His words, when he whispered them, were low and tortured, “I don’t know.”

   Charles could feel the stinging of his eyes and he couldn’t be sure if it was his own emotion or Erik’s, “yes you do. Erik, you wouldn’t have come all this way.”

   Hands, long and scarred clutched the arms of the chair as he gave a curt nod. Charles watched his lips move hesitantly, no words escaping, not yet. This was difficult for both of them, going from love and happiness to this spastic discontent.

   “I’m sorry,” Erik managed finally.

   The words felt like a blow to his heart, another bullet lodging itself firmly in his chest as his eyes flickered closed. They should be a relief; they should quell the fire that simmered in his gut to hear the words.

   All he felt was disappointment.

  “Still can’t be honest with each other,” Charles said.

   Erik blinked, shook his head in denial of the words, “I’m not lying Charles. I am sorry. I never wanted you to be hurt, paralyzed. I hoped-”

   “Erik stop.”

   His mouth shut with a clack of teeth and if this was any other time, Charles would be amused by the obedience. Erik had never been very good at following direction, working with a team and it had been a constant struggle to get him to listen. Apparently, the key to him was the guilt churning inside that dizzying mind.

   “You’re sorry I was hurt,” Erik nodded, a tinge of desperation in those eyes. Charles sighed, hating that he had to do this, that Erik had come all this way only to put them through more pain. “Then I forgive you and you are free to go.”

   He looked as though he’d been struck, “Charles-”

  “It’s what you came here for isn’t it? Forgiveness,” Charles interrupted. “So, you could ease your guilty consciousness and move on.”

   It wasn’t bitter, Charles was all out of bitter. It was difficult to be gracious, however, to let Erik leave without the closure they both so desperately needed. Ignoring the way his heart still felt like it beat for every breath of his.

   “I came here for you,” Erik replied. “I…left and I didn’t know what to do. I’ve gone so long with only one goal in mind and once I killed Shaw there was nothing.”

   Charles couldn’t help it when his eyes fluttered closed again, a distant ache reverberating through his skull, a memory that kept him awake most nights, “Erik, what do you want from me?”

   “Nothing, I just want to…I’m trying to make up for my mistake on that beach.”

   “Which one?”

   A pause. Charles opened his eyes to find Erik’s expression torn between guilt and defiance, “I won’t apologize for Shaw. I won’t even apologize for the missiles; I don’t have it in me. Not yet.”

   Charles looked at him for a long moment before finally giving in to the emotion that had been steadily growing inside him, “I don’t expect you to apologize for killing Shaw, I understand why you did it even if I didn’t agree with it. I don’t even expect you to apologize for the missiles because you were in no state of mind to make reasonable decisions.”

   Relief bloomed on his face and Charles could feel his own lips turning down in a heavy frown, “I do expect you to apologize for turning me into a murderer. That hurt worse than any bullet in my back.”

   Erik stared at him in confusion for a long moment and Charles kind of hated that he was being forced to explain, that Erik who used to know him so well, just didn’t understand what he had made him do.

   “You put that coin through Shaw’s head and the entire time I was in there, watching. I begged you not to do it, but you had that helmet on and couldn’t hear me. You put it through his head, and I had to choose between holding him there or letting him go, which would have gotten you killed. I killed him just as much as you and what’s worse is that I felt every second of it.”

   Charles hadn’t meant to say all of that. He prided himself on his control but whenever Erik was involved, he found himself slipping, always slipping. Erik, for his part, was staring at him with an expression he’d kindly call shock. There was no way he wasn’t aware that Charles had experienced every moment of that coin, but it hurt more then he cared to admit that Erik had never once given a thought for Charles’ morals when he made his decision.

   Killing Shaw had been Erik’s objective, some would argue his right. Making Charles be apart of it however, that was what felt like a bigger betrayal then the moment he’d been abandoned on the beach by both his lover and his sister.

   There was the softest of buzzing in the room and Charles didn’t need to look around to know it was Erik’s doing. Only his chair seemed untouched, even as self-hatred glinted in those wide eyes, his jaw clenched so tight he wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked his teeth.

   Charles said nothing, watching the man struggle to contain himself. He’d said his piece and for once, he feared he had no more words left to say, too drained from even looking at those familiar eyes and determined face.

   “I’m sorry.”

   It wasn’t the words that made him believe Erik this time. Before the sentiment had been necessary but the words were a place holder, an obstruction to revealing emotion. There were no walls now.

   The pain in Erik’s eyes was nothing but genuine, the guilt taking on a sharper edge, the essence of his mind having gone still and quiet with realization. It should be vindicating to finally have Erik understand what he’d done, one of the many things he’d done. It wasn’t, it was just another thing lengthening the gap between them.

   “I believe you,” he offered, running a hand through his hair and forcing his next words out. “Thank you for coming. I appreciate it more then I could say.”

   Erik’s brows furrowed and it was becoming painful to see how upset he was. He leaned forward as his hands continued to clench the armrests, “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “You don’t have to play that role with me, you never have before.”

   Charles swallowed thickly, “things are different now.”

   “They are. But we’ve always been equals you and I, you don’t have to pretend everything is alright.”

   “Would you prefer I cry and scream like a child?”

   “If that’s what you need,” Erik’s eyes were serious as he spoke. “I’m not leaving unless you ask me to. I meant when I said I wanted to make up for my mistakes that day, you’ve just shown me that I have more to do then I thought.”

   It was difficult to look away from those eyes, so filled with a passion that he’d only previously seen when directed at Shaw. Charles never thought he’d be under that same gaze and he hated how easy it was to nod, to accept that maybe, just maybe, Erik meant his words and wouldn’t leave him again. It was pathetic and he should know better, especially after all the times Erik had tried to point out his naiveté in the past, but the problem was that love had never worked that way for Charles. Goodbyes were never permanent, not for him because letting go had never been an option.

   Something pressed gently against his mind, the barest of whispers trying to reach him. Charles had no intention of looking, didn’t want to see anymore then he already had. It didn’t stop one clear emotion from sinking past his shields, however, the only emotion stronger than the guilt eating away at Erik’s soul; it was love.


End file.
